Bittersweet Ever After
by supercalifragilis
Summary: Post-Battle of Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione learn to be together, simple romance. From the Battle to the Epilogue, moments in their lives. Alternating POV with some flashbacks.
1. The Day After

_Hermione didn't really know when it all started. Was anyone ever really able to tell? It's so strange when you've learned to evolve, when you've grown mainly as a group, and the balance works perfectly, but everything changes when one is removed. Perhaps it was the first time they were left alone without Harry to roam around Hogsmeade together. He'd always bothered her, the way only he knew how, but the more she thought about it, the more she leaned towards a more precise word. And she was nothing if not precise. Ron unsettled her. Shook her well-groundedness. Now, shook her to the core. His hair unsettled her, persisting in her retina minutes after he left, since the beginning. Early on, it had seemed easy to place this under the flag of awkwardness. Why could she hug Harry and not him? Later on, she's admitted failure at understanding it, and merely classified it as a passing crush, maintaining proper boundaries and awkwardness. The moment it went deeper, she couldn't pinpoint for sure. One of the many times she almost lost him. Or maybe the few times that she got a hint that he felt something too. She'd gotten close to revealing herself several times. There was nothing she hated more. How fragile and powerless he made her feel, like she had to resort to pathetic moves to make him notice how much she cared. Now, it was more subtle, urgent yet profoundly unpredictable. They would all live on the run, in high danger, and she couldn't risk her feelings getting in the way. But she knew, she saw now, how he looked at her when he thought she wouldn't notice. She knew that if they got out of it alive, they'd give it a try. As far as she was concerned, she had been a goner for as long as she could tell._

And here they were. All silence and nowhere to go but here, holding on to one another until the pain receded, trying to gather themselves in the face of the elation of being at peace again, of being alive. They'd gone back to the Great Hall, where there were much less people than a few hours before. People had gone home, finally. It was so much to process for Ron. As he cried in her arms, he did not know what confused him the most; the fact that Fred was dead, that he would never be able to hear him laugh again, or the fact that he could now hold Hermione without the carefully imposed restraint he had practiced for months, arguably forever. He was aware of the rubbles around him, of Harry quietly talking to Ginny and Bill, of his mum stunned in place, of her dad holding her hand. They'd be here for a few days, probably, picking up the pieces, the bodies. There would be funerals. In a way, Hogwarts would be a bubble where they would avoid the raucous of the world outside, journalists and officials alike, wanting to hear what happened, to celebrate the bitter victory. Where would they go after? Hermione stirred at his side, the humid sensation of her cheek getting away from his forehead, in a loss of heat. 'I don't want to leave you alone, she whispered, but won't they all expect me to go home when you do?' 'Never. You and Harry, you're family, whatever happens. You're going home with us, to bury Fred.'

The first night was spent in heavy sleep. They slept like they hadn't slept for a year, the grief and relief making it easier to be sedated into a dreamless slumber. The Weasleys had decided to take their family, deconstructed and extended, home to the Burrow. Hogwarts would be repaired by the teams of Aurors and ministry officials who'd already swarmed in the evening of the Battle. They had apparated after twilight, gulped down a few sandwiches, and everyone had gone to bed. Harry and Hermione had followed, but now sat uncomfortably on the couch, feeling like outsiders who had nowhere else to go. Ron entered from the kitchen, 'Mum says that there's no way you're sleeping in the tent tonight. Come on, let's go upstairs'. He took Hermione's hand on his way to the stairs and intertwined his fingers with hers. Harry went straight to Ron's bedroom, saying a faint goodnight to both of them. In front of Ginny's door, Ron and Hermione stopped. Hermione was silent, waiting for Ron to dictate their rhythm now that she had laid herself open to him, now that he had just lost his brother. He didn't let go of her hand. 'Mione, I'm not sure what happens now. You know how I am with words, and I'm probably going to be even worse for a while now, but I need to say this before. I want you to be with me. I've wanted it for so long it feels strange to say it out loud.' He was looking down, at their joined hands, with tears in his eyes, and she gathered him in her arms, as much as her frail body could envelop his tall, solid frame. 'I'll tell you what happens. We're together now. What we mourn, we mourn together, like what we've fought, we fought together. We rest, we learn to appreciate the peace again. We lean on each other. That's what we do.' He looked up now, gazing at her like he'd never seen her before, amazed at her words. He leaned his forehead on hers, slowly. 'Now that I've got you, there's a good chance I'm never letting you go, you know that?' She smiled through her tears, 'I know.' Their lips slowly bumped into each other, their faces not acquainted with one another in that way just yet, after the passion and suddenness of their first kiss. This one was slow, full of pain and peace, but also relief. He'd pulled her tightly against him and she'd tried to get as close to him as possible. They broke away, slightly disoriented. 'Good night, Hermione'.

When he woke up, it was bright daylight, and he had to second-guess himself at finding the familiar walls and furniture of his room around him. He remembered it all. The days past, the Battle, Fred, Hermione's kiss in the Room of Retirement. It was all mixed up in a jumble of grief and elation. He looked past his bed to Harry's cot, but he wasn't there. Probably down for breakfast already. The clock said it was past noon, so he'd slept at least twelve hours. He heard a faint knock on his door, as if someone was trying to gauge if he was still sleeping or not. He stood up and opened the door to a freshly showered Hermione. Her smile was hesitant but genuine, and he ushered her in. Closing the door, he reached out his right arm to graze her cheek, 'Morning, Hermione'. She placed her hand on his. 'I thought I'd pop in and see if you wanted some breakfast, everybody is downstairs already'. He got closer to her, nestling his face in her neck, breathing it in 'You smell so good! I can't believe that yesterday I thought I'd maybe die, and never tell you how I feel, or smell your hair again, but now I can do this.' She crossed her arms on his back, settling against the door. They stayed like this a few seconds, maybe minutes. She could feel his heart beating loudly in his chest, and hoped that he could hear hers. 'You can do this, and anything you want too'. His breath came in short at her words. Strong, brilliant, proper Hermione was offering cuddles to comfort him, and it was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard her say. He deposited a small kiss, then two, then three down her neck to her collarbone, suddenly feeling the elation taking over his pain, and stopped short. 'Why don't we get downstairs and get you some breakfast?' 'Promise I'll get to see you alone later too'. 'I won't have it any other way.'

They spent the afternoon outside with Harry. They didn't talk much, as if they needed to savor the lack of urgency now, the lack of danger. When they had gone down to breakfast, they hadn't even bothered to hide it by showing up a few minutes apart. They came down the stairs holding hands, not caring who would notice. All that mattered is that they needed each other now. A few people looked up and smiled with their fresher but weary faces before they shuffled to find seats around the table. Harry had helped make breakfast with Ginny, giving Mrs Weasley some time to not have to worry about providing food for all of them. They had then gone outside for some fresh air, regardless of the rain and gloomy day. They walked through the garden and countryside around. 'I know it's a crappy timing and everything, but I'm gloriously happy you two finally figured this out, Harry said'. They laughed softly at his words. 'I'm going to get back inside, see how Ginny is doing.' 'See you later mate'.

He then led her towards the wood, desperate for privacy. They were wet from the rain, but didn't seem to care. They talked about anything else, about Fred a little. Then Ron asked 'What do you think you're going to do about your parents, Mione? I mean, I know it looks like everything is about Fred and my family right now, but you must be wanting to sort this out too, right?' She stopped walking, and looked him in the eyes. He'd never get tired of her looking at him like that, like she would tell him things she wouldn't talk about with anyone else, like he was worthy of it all. She got on her tiptoe and kissed him. 'You really are so sweet, you are. I'm not sure, honestly. I should probably go and get them. Reverse the charm.' 'You want to go to Australia? When?' 'Well, I think I need a few weeks, to rest and recollect. I could stay here if that's alright.' 'What about your house? Don't you want to go check it out before you leave and see what state it's in?' 'Right, that too.' She looked at him, like she couldn't quite believe her eyes. Could it be that he had grown into such a perceptive, such a caring young man, right before her eyes? That would certainly explain why she'd fall harder and harder every time. 'Well, I'll come with you. We'll stay here for a while, and then when you're ready, we'll go. Harry will probably want to come as well.' She took his hand then, and sat them both down with a cushioning and impermeability charm. 'Ron, that's…thank you. But your family… You need each other too much right now.' He looked far ahead, nodding, then turned his face back to hers. 'I need you more. Besides, I'm never leaving you alone again, not after what I did...' He looked down then, his hand tracing circles on her knee. 'I know we're together now, but I don't expect you to ever fully forgive me for this, and I'll make it up to you, I promise.' 'Ron…' She stood on her knees then, cradling his face in her hands, trying to fully understand how broken he must have been, how insecure and small he must have felt, to leave them that time. She decided to show him, instead, how much he was worth for her. She touched his chin, made him look at her, as she was slowly advancing towards where he was sitting cross-legged. When she was close enough, she kissed him. Would he always feel so dumbfounded when she'd do that? He returned her kiss, softly at first, but he grew more passionate as he understood what she was trying to say. He brought her even closer, enclosing her in his arms, as she opened her mouth to him for an even deeper kiss. She grew frustrated and moved to straddle him, as the rain started again, but they couldn't care less. She broke away, breathless, 'Do you see? Can you tell?' He nodded, mesmerized. 'How long has it been for you', he asked. She blushed and smiled – would he ever get used to her most intimate smiles? 'A girl doesn't kiss and tell, Ron. It'd be hard to date it. It's been years, probably.' He just stared at her, his mouth slightly opened, the only sign that he heard her being his tightening grip on her waist. She continued, feeling that he needed this. 'Well, I always thought you were cute, but you were also my friend. Then, there was some jealousy with Krum, and I thought maybe there would be something. I can't tell when it went deeper than a simple crush, but I know when I understood that I was in deep.' 'Deep?' he repeated, his eyes wide open. 'The Amortentia. It smelled like you.' 'Oh', he mouthed. He kissed her then, wildly reciprocating her words with his body, but stopped after a few minutes. 'It's only fair that I tell you my side of the story now, right?' She smiled, unable to contain her excitement, that they were here, safe now, talking to each other. 'I reckon I always knew it, in the back of my daft mind; but I blocked it, because I believed so hard, like everybody else, that you'd be destined for Harry, the hero. But I don't know… after a while I guess I could see that you both were not interested in each other in that way. But at that point, I'd never have had the guts to tell you. So it was easy to shove it down. Lavender jumped at me, and soon I couldn't get rid of her, but I immediately regretted it. I'd always compare her with you, and it didn't make me like her any better. After that, I was pretty convinced I'd be crazy about you until it'd go away on its own. I never even thought you'd really want me that way… I still can't believe it. I'm such a knob!' 'Ron Weasley! You're the most adorable thing I've ever seen. And I do want you that way, for that matter. I want you that way very much.' The way she said that made him jolt, realizing again the intimate position they were in. All he could do was kiss her, and then he said: 'I think we need to adjust to this. It's a big change, to just be able to do this, to say those things.' She nodded, her breath warming his lips in the now cold air. 'I love you, Ron. We have all the time in the world.' His heart must have exploded in his chest, as she kissed him with everything she had. He crushed her mouth with his and parted just to say he loved her, right back. 'You're cold, he said, let's go back inside'. They unhooked their arms and legs, and stood up. 'Ready?' he asked, looking at her in the only way he knew how, 'Yes', she said, and they ran back to the house.


	2. What Happens in the Tent

Chapter 2: What Happens in the Tent

 _It was hard to look Bill and Fleur in the eyes these days. He'd abandonned his friends, in the midst of trying to save the world, and now that he was far away, he was able to step back from the situation. He looked at the ceiling, where shells rounded into a snail shape, in the guest room that he was so ashamed to occupy. 'I need to get a grip,' he thought. He'd been paranoid at best, probably the fault of that horrible locket. But regardless of how overwhelming the feeling had been, it wasn't nearly as shattering as the shame he felt. It wasn't just that he expected people would judge him. It was a battle with himself. He was disappointed at his failure, at his short-temper. It was like everything that he'd always hated about himself had led him to this moment. In the story, he'd be the bad friend. Even if he ever got Harry and Hermione to forgive him, he would never forgive himself. He knew what Hermione would say, and her voice resonated in his head, the worst torture of all. 'You need to let this go, Ron. You're your own person; it's only when you doubt yourself that you make mistakes.' Could it be true? He was a young man now, a not fully grown man, but he could see how much of a handicap his feeble self-esteem had been and still was. 'A healer would probably say that I became friends with Harry on purpose. I'd never need to worry about making something of myself if I hid in his shadow. I'd be the sidekick instead, which sounds fun'. Now that he really thought about it, it made a lot of sense. But as he lay in silence, he thought of how unfair that was. Harry was at the same time much less and much more than the hero. But mostly, he was his best mate, and he needed help. He needed to get back, and prove himself. This would be his quest. As for Hermione, he shuddered at the thought of how harsh her words would be, and he'd deserve them. It wouldn't be the first time, and hopefully, if she'd have him, not the last that he'd learn from his mistakes. He'd become worthy, he'd fight. He would find them again._

It had been a week that they were home, and the day of the funeral arrived. Everyone at the Burrow was coping in the only way they could. George had come out of his shocked silence to request that the funeral be less of a dark and tragic affair. 'If we want to really honor him, we need to do this his way, our way.' And he'd proceeded to decorate the place with colors, while the others helped pick the best products of WW for guests to play with. This had given most of others a chance to breathe from the heavy atmosphere. The week had passed by in ambivalent hours, resting, talking, playing games, holding hands. There was much more to recover from than Fred's death. Now that it really was over, it was like all the things Ron, Hermione and Harry had gone through were resurfacing, the three of them desperately needing to discuss them quietly. Ron mourned Fred, Hermione faced the aftermath of having been horribly tortured by Bellatrix, and Harry struggled with his guilt for all the victims. Occasionnally, a rainbow of hope would enlighten the house, and for a little while, it was slightly more cheerful, care-free and they could all get a glimpse of what it would be several months, a year from now, time having done its job at healing these wounds. It was now May. Ginny, Hermione, Ron and Harry had a few months to decide what they'd do come September. They sometimes talked about it. It was obvious Ron and Harry would probably join the Auror training program, while Ginny and Hermione contemplated going back to school, but the four of them dreaded the end of the hiatus they were in, dreaded the real world. Before that, Ron and Harry would go with Hermione to Australia to help her with her parents, which Molly and Arthur had agreed to easily. It was now clear to the whole family that Harry and Ginny were as much of a couple as Hermione and Ron.

On the night after the funeral, they'd all gone to bed late, and the four of them had stayed even longer behind in the living room. Ginny started sobbing, and Hermione moved to take her upstairs to sleep. As she closed the door to the bathroom, she found Ron waiting. 'So, I was thinking… it's been a dreadful day, and I don't want to go to sleep. Do you want to go talk in the tent?' As he said that, she could tell he was embarrassed, but he also had the shadow of a smile. She took his hand then, and led him towards the stairs. 'Just let me grab it.'

When they entered the tent, she stood and looked at it for a while. They'd spend so long camping there, in fear and anguish, that it was strange to now see it as their place to be alone. She felt him slide his arms around her waist, leaning his head over her neck, to gently place a kiss there. She was envelopped in the warmth of his tall, strong frame, and she swore at that moment that nothing would ever feel as good as this. 'I missed touching you all day' he said, daring to say the words. She shivered. She could tell he felt it, and wondered if he'd say anything. He added, for precaution 'I mean, you know, just being alone and all, not like…that!' She turned, and his ears were blazing. He could tell, from the look she gave him, that she was curious. 'But tell me, what would 'that' be?' she asked. Ron acted fast; she seemed to have liked his embrace, so he did exactly that again. And then he boldly moved his right hand under her sweater, slowly but surely, first grazing her waist, and then placing it flat on her belly button. 'Like that, maybe,' he whispered. 'That feels really good, Ron'. They stayed a few minutes like that, breathing in the smell of each other. Ron titled his head a big to drop a trail of kisses from the righ side of her neck to the left. Hermione felt all warm, all of a sudden. She figured that something that could make them feel this good couldn't be a bad thing to do on such a day.

She turned to face him, his hand retreating from her belly. She caught it, brought it back under her sweater, looked at Ron, who was watching her so intensely, with his mouth half open, that her belly twisted in excitement. Then she pulled his hand up, laying it to rest on her left breast. Ron groaned, and walked towards her. He grabbed her sweater and pulled it up, then he kneeled on the floor and brought his hands to rest on both sides of her hips, so tall that his mouth fit perfectly on her belly button. He looked up at her, made sure she was still fine with the development, and when she nodded, he started kissing it deeply, in a gesture so intimate that she gasped. It was one of the most delicious things she had ever experienced, and she entangled her fingers in his hair. She could tell that he was losing himself into her, giving all his energy, bad and good, to the passion of covering her with his saliva, branding her as his. It was earthy, natural, like everything else she had been given to experience coming from him in their few days of true relationship. She kneeled down in front of him, and he just looked at her, his hands idle at her sides, waiting for her to move. 'How do you feel now?' she asked. 'I… this feels amazing. But I want to make sure it isn't too fast. I don't want us to do anything we'd regret just because of… grief, and sadness. But I'm lost, because at the same time, all I want is to hold you, and be close to you, and it's the only moments when I feel like we're alive, like there is a bright future ahead despite of everything.' 'Ron, one person couldn't feel all that; they'd explode!' He chuckled and brought her closer, 'Yeah, I reckon I grew up, emotionally, somewhere during the war.' Hermione thought back at those many times when Ron would be so daft and obtuse, so obstinate in his ways.

'Mione', he added, softly, placing his left hand flat on her stomach again, their new sign of intimacy, 'how are _you_?' She brought her right hand behind him, caressing his back under his tee-shirt, all the way up to his collarbone and down again, thinking. 'I feel…good, I guess. Better than yesterday, much better than a week ago.' They looked deeply into each other's eyes. There was no denying how deeply the torture of the Crucio curses had affected her, maybe forever. 'I've had a few bad dreams, but it helps immensely to know that it's all over now.' 'Hermione, you're the freakin' strongest and toughest person I've ever known.' Emboldened by the tone of admiration and devotion in his voice, she reached back behind her and unhooked her bra. All he could do was watch. Then, as if he'd been hit in the head all of a sudden, he moved softly to remove his own tee-shirt. Their eyes roamed each other's torso. 'You're so beautiful, Hermione'. As an answer, she raised her hand and touched a freckle under his collarbone, tracing it all the way down from freckle to freckly until she reached the fascinating trail of red hair under his belly button. She blushed then, but looked up and held his gaze. He mirrored her movement, starting below her belly button instead and moving up. He grazed both of her breasts on his way up, then pressed his entire palm on her breast, quickly placing the other hand on the other. He moaned when he felt the fullness of her small breast bearing on his hands, and the nipples hardening against his touch.

He stood up quickly, and moved her towards the bed. 'I want you to be comfortable', he said. She lay down first, opening up the covers for him to join her. They kept touching each other, amazed at the pleasure they could feel just from that. 'Kiss my breast, Ron'. He crushed her mouth first, and they kissed passionately, tongues crashing together, their hands caressing each other. He brought her as close to him as he could, not hesitating now, even though he could tell that she could feel his erection now, undeniable against her thigh. Then he took her left breast fully in his mouth, revelling in the feel of it, grown wild at the sound of her moans. 'Oh Hermione, you're so amazing… you're driving me mad.' She panted, biting his lips back into kissing her more deeply. They were moving in unison now, grinding desperately, his hard-on driving circles into her core through their pajama pants. She yelled her release suddenly, which drove him wild with need, and he followed through, groaning like a beast, licking in the middle of her breasts. It took a while for them to be able to speak. 'I never knew anything could feel as good as this', Hermione whispered. He looked at her, amazed. 'I'm sorry, I got carried away, I think'. 'Ronald Weasley! Don't ever apologize when we make each other feel so good. We've deserved it, haven't we?' He kissed her nose, bringing her leg up on his hip, then resting his hand on her breast. '10 points for Gryffindor!' And they laughed, unable to resist the happiness they felt at that moment. Ron then talked to her in a more serious tone, gazing into her eyes with all the love he could express 'Thank you, Mione, I didn't know I needed that, but I did. We'll take it step by step, in whatever way you judge best. You were always best at judging. Alright?' She kissed his earlobe, and nuzzled into his neck 'I'd love nothing more than that. Please tell me we can sleep here together for a little while.' 'I don't see why not, let's just put an alarm for dawn to get back to our beds.' He yawned, and she exhaled a long, comfortable sigh. 'I love you, Ron. Sleep tight'. 'I love you more.'


End file.
